


Light Up Your Eyes

by AeeDee



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 03:43:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeeDee/pseuds/AeeDee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/yj_anon_meme/">YJ anon meme</a> prompt.  Wally tries to make Roy smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light Up Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Another old YJ meme fill. Surprisingly worksafe.

Sometimes, Roy smiles in his sleep. The more deeply asleep he is, the more likely it is to happen. Sometimes it’s only a faint suggestion; other times his entire face lights up, like he’s experiencing some moment that brings him joy. He has a unique habit of starting to smile, giving an almost pleasant sigh and turning in closer to his partner, as if he’s a part of the moment playing out inside his mind.

He turns in and when he does, Wally stirs. When they share a bed he's a light sleeper, but he does it on purpose. Because that’s how he’s able to capture moments like these. When Roy gives that gentle smile and moves in just a bit closer, draping a heavy arm across his waist. Sometimes Wally is tempted to kiss him, but he’d wake up; and when he wakes up it’s all the same, like none of it ever happened.

Roy is cold. Roy is so cold. He knows it’s not intentional, but when he wakes up, he seems more annoyed and frustrated than anything; like every dream is better than the reality he’s returning to.

It hurts Wally. It hurts him somewhere deep inside, some wound he can’t adequately identify or bandage up tightly enough. Because every time Roy wakes up and gives that familiar frown, or the same old half-sigh as he sits up and stretches his back out, Wally gets the feeling that nothing here—including him—is good enough.

When Roy kisses him it’s hurried and tense, like he’s fulfilling some obligation. They have a spark, but only when Roy’s especially tired or exhausted enough; when he’s able to drop his guard just enough to bond with another human being.

Wally can remember the last time Roy kissed him, and he _felt_ like he meant it; the some months ago, now. Before they fell into this bed, before they started sharing these sheets, before… Before Wally told him he loved him, and Roy swore he did too. If he did, where was it? How could none of it ever show…

He just wanted one smile. One laugh. One moment to remind him of why he’s here at all.

But Roy’s just not that type. He just isn’t the type at all.

-

He knows he’s slipping away.

Every time he wakes up, Roy can feel Wally moving just a little bit further away. He understood, at first; He understood that Wally was nervous, anxious, whatever it was. He knew Wally was a little scared; this was new to him, and he understood that. He knew he’d pressured him to move a little fast, and he knew this was getting _surprisingly_ intimate and-

But Wally was never the same person again, since this all started. He was a certain person on that day, in that hour; when he stood on Roy’s doorstep and nervously asked if he could come in. When he shuffled his feet against the floor mat, dragging with every step as he kept his gaze to the floor. And when Roy kissed him—honestly, seriously kissed him—there was an expression Wally had on his face, somewhere between anxiety and joy. _Pure joy_ , the kind you can’t buy. The kind that lights up your eyes.

Roy hadn’t seen that look in quite some time.

But it was different when he was asleep. When he was asleep, in that pitch dark room, he was only conscious of what his senses perceived. The faint scent of Wally’s skin, that lingered in the sheets. His smooth skin, his tight muscles, the faint hint of sweat on his neck. And the rhythmic lullaby of his breathing, shallow and slow.

When he fell asleep, his imagination filled in the rest. In those moments, deep inside a pleasant dream space, Wally was genuinely happy. He was excited to see him, blushing and anxious like on the day they first kissed. He was giddy and overwhelmed, like how he almost cried when they first slept together, when he said he’d never felt this for anyone before. That alone; Roy could _kill_ for another moment just like that, with Wally saying something so profound, breathless, his face flush with exhaustion and happiness. The kind of happiness you can’t seek out willingly; the kind you have to accidentally find.

A happy miracle. That’s how it all felt. When he discovered that the tenseness in his chest was shared by another person, the exact person he wanted - more than anything in the world - to understand.

He loved Wally. He _has_ loved Wally. He still does.

But every time he wakes up, and the sheets around him feel just a little bit colder than they did the morning before, he dies a little more.

-

Wally’s doing what he can. He’s doing the only thing he knows how. He’s trying to make him laugh. He’s hoping that if Roy can laugh once, _just_ once, then maybe it’ll remind him of what it feels like. Maybe he’d realize he missed the feeling.

So Wally’s giggling to himself, as he recounts the most hilarious story he knows.

And Roy smirks; almost. A faint chuckle, his mouth barely even twitching, before he resumes watching the television screen.

But Wally doesn’t have time to sulk. He doesn’t have time to be disappointed. Because Dick’s standing there nearby, and he laughs hard enough to fill the room with waves of sound.

Wally doesn’t know what Roy’s laugh even sounds like anymore.

But Dick’s a good sport. Dick’ll share the moment. So Wally takes one look at him, and can’t help it. He joins in. He doesn’t intend to; it just comes a lot easier, with someone like him.

-

Roy’s sitting alone now, idly tampering with his bow; the trajectory is slightly off, and he doesn’t know why. But he doesn’t really care. The truth is, he broke it intentionally. He needed something to do. He needed something to fill his mind, idle thoughts and noise to block out his depressing revelations otherwise.

Revelations like _Maybe Wally doesn’t love me anymore_ , and _You see how much he enjoys Dick’s company, don’t you._

Roy knows what he should do. Wally would hate it and call him ridiculous, but he knows what he should do now. What’s fair. What’s been fair; since Wally stopped smiling and laughing and excitedly jumping onto his back and hugging him and-

_If you love something…_

And Roy’s trying not to lose his composure, as his fingers accidentally pull a tad too tightly, and snap the string he just bound back into place.

_Let it go._

Even if it doesn’t come back.

Some things—no, some _people_ —are not meant for someone like him to keep.

-

“I want you to be happy,” when he says it, he can see the reaction on Wally’s face. But he hears not a sound.

Wally’s not speaking because he can’t.

He’s lost somewhere inside his mind. He’s lost in his thoughts. Thoughts like, _Maybe Roy doesn’t love me anymore_ and _You see how much he dislikes having you around, don’t you._

He closes his eyes, and nods. He bites his bottom lip. Hopes the shaking sensation running up his back, and through his hands and arms is not visibly apparent. He hopes that - even as he feels the tears gathering - when he looks up at Roy, his face is not flushed.

But Roy doesn’t go back on his word. Instead he gives him a loose embrace, one arm around his shoulders and says, “I’m sorry. I know it hurts.”

Wally nods-

Roy’s quiet voice, “It always does.”

It doesn’t matter who you lose, or whether you loved them or not. There’s just something about it. Wally feel pain for the loss, whether he saw a future in this or not. That’s just how it goes.

But Wally’s not thinking anything like that at all. He’s shivering and shaking, and he’s thinking, _What did I do wrong?_

But he doesn’t say a word. He just nods and gathers his composure before he slides away from Roy’s embrace, from his warm body, from his slow breathing and his… his everything.

He tries to imagine a life without Roy, even as far into the next morning, when he’ll wake up in his own bed, and have to remember that he’s not going by his house later in the afternoon-

And a small sob escapes.

Roy looks at him with some curiosity, but it’s too late. He can’t go back now. If he goes back on his word now, he will never be able to do this. He will lose what small ability he has to be selfless, to see beyond himself, to act on behalf of someone else’s future.

Even if that someone is the person he wants to spend _his_ with, more than anything.

_If you love someone, let them go._

He can’t help it; he gives Wally a small kiss on the face, before the boy escapes completely from his grasp.

_And if they don’t come back…_

-

“Why are you doing this?” Wally stops before he steps outside, as he allows his hand to linger on the doorknob, gripping it faintly, like he could turn it at any time.

He doesn’t look at him; what would be the point? He knows how Roy is. He knows what he does. He’ll stare back at him, cruel and cold. Isolated and distant. Acting like he doesn’t care because maybe, _maybe_ he really doesn’t.

But his answer is not what Wally expects—or wants—to hear.

“You deserve better than me.”

Wally sighs a little, as he shakes his head. The words are coming out so fast, they get caught in his mouth. And he exhales just once, to clear the air and attempts to speak again. This time with success, “How could I do better than you?”

“What are you talking about,” Roy responds, his voice cold as ever.

Wally frowns at him, “Because you’re _Roy_ and I’m… me.”

“What."

“You’re _you_ ,” Wally glances at him, a faint smirk on his face. “And I’m… me,” with a shrug. “I tell stupid jokes you don’t like, I watch tv way too loud, I’m loud and silly and…” he pauses. And with a tense smile that’s only there to keep his anguish from creeping in, “Someone like me, I can’t make someone like you happy.”

Roy gives an empty sigh, more of a slow and pained gasp, like he was just hit by force. And when Wally turns his body to face him directly, he’s startled. It’s not about what Roy is saying; it’s about what he’s doing, right now.

Because right now he’s frowning to himself, as his hand claws at the edge of the door, his fingers scratching at the paint, drawing strong and deep lines through the polished surface. His breathing is tense, and when he looks at Wally, he does so with an irritation the boy himself doesn’t completely understand.

“You…” Roy shakes his head, exasperated, “That’s _my_ line, Wally.”

“What are you talking about?”

The silence between them could be broken with a single word; but neither of them know what the right one is. But Roy can’t stand it, so he’s going to say what he needs to, that sacred moment be damned. He’s just gonna crash right in and ruin it. He’ll do this improperly, to get it over with. He’s no good at shit like this.

“Have you considered dating Dick.”

“What,” Wally’s eyes grow wide.

“He makes you happy, doesn’t he? He puts you in a good mood.”

“Roy, what are you-”

“I want you to be happy.” Roy says with an affirmative nod, “So you should go… you should ask him out.”

Wally’s staring at him, his lips open with no words and no sound.

“I think he likes you, anyway.”

Wally stares. His eyes glittering, his lip trembles as his expression of shock becomes a frown, slow and somber. And when he speaks his voice is uneven, breathy and ragged almost. “But don’t _you_ like me?”

Roy gives an immediate answer, “I love you.”

“Then why-”

“Because you don’t love me.”

Wally feels- Inside of him, there’s something collapsing. Pressure.

“You idiot,” in an angry voice that’s like a curse, “Roy,” his tone sinks down, as he struggles to speak through the rest, “I love you.”

Roy gives a quiet sigh.

“I love you,” he’s shaking, “I don’t want-”

“If you enjoy his company,” Roy keeps his voice as stable as he can, “You should be with him.”

“ _Roy_ ,” a desperate sigh.

“Go and be happy.”

“Why-”

“Because I know you’re not.” He pauses. “Not with me.”

Wally closes his eyes, and hangs his head.

“I want you to be happy. I want you to be with someone that’ll _get_ your jokes, Wally. Someone that likes your shows, and the clever things you do.” He sighs a little. “Things like…”

Wally opens his eyes.

“When you get lost in large open spaces, or,” Roy even smirks a little, “how ridiculous you look when you try to swim. Your silly science rants about space and atoms, and how dumb you act around animals, making all those faces at them…”

Wally’s just.. staring.

They seem to realize something Roy hasn’t been able to say. He sighs loudly, bringing his hands up to his face, in a sign of defeat. General failure that’s undefined and confusing. Conflicting and troubling. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I can’t.” His hands fall to his sides, and he shakes his head to himself, “I can’t do this.”

“You can’t,” Wally asks, hesitantly.

“I can’t. I wan- I _should_ , but I can’t.”

Wally moves closer, pressing his hands against Roy’s arms, holding onto him gently, and then with more genuine strength as he stares up into his eyes, eyes that are surprisingly somber. When he speaks, his voice is fragile and careful. “Then _don’t_. "

Roy parts his lips to say something, but no sound escapes. 

Wally smiles at him, gently; “Keep me.”

Roy glances down as he notices Wally’s hands, which start to roam up and down his arms, slowly, reassuringly.

“It's okay if I can't make you happy,” Wally looks away, his eyes idly following the stitching on Roy’s shirt, and the slow rise and fall of his chest, “I can accept that. I'll keep working at it.”

“Happy..” Roy murmurs.

“I don’t min-”

“But I’m am.”

When Wally looks up at him questionably, Roy’s tilting his head, a new frown materializing on his face.

His voice, tense and concerned, “Why would you think that?”

“Because you’re.. you're so angry all the time,” Wally explains, clear as day.

“Wally,” a small grin sneaks onto his face, “Being with you is… You’re the only reason I’m _not_ angry all the time.”

“What,” Wally blinks up at him.

“I’m _only_ happy when I’m with you, Wally.”

“But not when you wake up next to me,” a hushed murmur.

“Yeah, because you’re always so far away.”

Wally’s chest tightens.

“I mean, what do you expect? I fall asleep next to you, I _dream_ about you, and I wake up and you’re just- You’re so far away all of a sudden-”

But Wally’s hugging him so tightly, so tightly that he can’t speak. His face pressed against Roy’s chest.

“Wally,” Roy tries to look down at him, but the angle is impossible. So he stares ahead and murmurs, “Babe.”

“I love you,” Wally murmurs.

Roy’s too perplexed to comment.

“I love you so much,” Wally whines, his voice exasperated. And he mumbles against Roy’s chest, “I’m sorry and I’m not letting you leave me.”

“Why are you sorry-”

“I thought you were mad at me,” Wally sighs. “I thought you didn’t like me anymore…”

Roy’s pressing a hand against Wally’s shoulder, as he slides the other arm around his waist, slowly, slowly. His voice faint and quiet, “Never.” It’s such a low hush, Wally almost doesn’t hear it.

But he does. And he falls silent and breathes deeply, as he murmurs, “I thought you were mad at me every morning-”

And Roy pulls him close; so close that Wally he can feel his heart skip a beat. Because those strong arms are around him, so _tight_ like Roy’s afraid he’s going to fly away. He can hear him breathing, can _feel_ him breathing against his forehead, and he shivers when Roy kisses him there, solemn and emotional, with a ragged sigh that echoes through his whole body.

“Roy-”

“I’m sorry. I’m such a bastard.”

Wally’s hugging him back as he slides his hands up towards his shoulders. “I just want to make you happy,” he says.

“ _God_ , always.”

It startles Wally. It startles him tremendously; just a few minutes before, Roy was so cold. Roy was so cold, and now… he’s still shaking. His voice hasn’t been stable for several of his last words now, and he won’t loosen his hold around him, holding him like Wally’s life depends on it, like he needs his support to live and function.

But he does. He needs this.

Wally leans up and kisses Roy on the face.

Roy turns in and kisses him back.

“Hey, babe,” a small smile crawls onto Wally’s face.

“What,” a quiet whisper, right before a second kiss.

“Do you _really_ think Dick is my type,” as he narrows his eyes incredulously.

“Hm,” Roy pauses for a moment.

“I mean, considering how much I like _you_ …”

“I don’t know. He’s pretty funny.”

“And you think I want to _sleep with_ ‘funny’,” Wally frowns at him, with a wider grin this time. "Besides, physically? Not my type."

“Physically,” Roy contemplates out loud, “So _that’s_ why you keep me around.”

Wally starts to snicker.

And when he sees a genuine smile appearing on Roy’s face, he realizes two very important things:

 _Whoa, he just told a joke,_ and

He’s kissing him again as he manages a few words in between intermittent gasps for air. “You have the _best_ smile.”


End file.
